State of Decay: The Survival Handbook
by Envirosuit
Summary: This is the story of three different survivors, as they try to survive in the world after the infection. Follow Ryan Dunn, a hooded figure, Christopher Dilsworth and even the story of Marcus Campbell as survival turns either the dead, or the living into monsters. Rated M for gore, strong violence and language.
1. Into the nothing

I do not own State of Decay, I have written this purely for fun. I also do not own anything mentioned here but my OC'S.

**Chapter 1: Into the nothing**

23/12/2012

"OPEN FIRE!"

The reply came in the form of torrents of bullets soaring, and sinking into rotten flesh. Masses and masses of the wall of flesh collapsed, but it was still marching strong.

"They just keep coming!"

"INCOMING, LEFT FLANK!"

"THEY'RE COMING UP THE RIGHT TOO!"

Twelve soldiers formed a box like formation to cover all three directions, the squad of twelve splitting into groups of four to battle the torrential horde. The leader of the group, Major Peter Brownless noticed a ladder behind them and yelled to the rest of the group.

"WE HAVE A LADDER HERE! WE'LL GO UP IN GROUPS OF THREE! WINTERS, WOODROW AND TAN, YOU'RE UP!"

The three veterans of war, PFC K.C Winters, Corporal Evan Woodrow and Sergeant Erik Tan quickly scrambled up the ladder, before firing down onto the horde to attempt to cover their teammates.

Major Peter Brownless hurriedly fired his AKMS into the closest zombie, felling it with a clean headshot, before continuing to spray the crowd. He grit his teeth in determination as he reloaded his AKMS with the skill of a hardened soldier before quickly glancing behind him. He saw that the three were on the platform and shouted before firing again.

"MONTRESSOR, LUTHER AND DUNN, GO!"

Captain Diane Montressor quickly shot backwards and jumped up to the ladder before climbing up to the steel platform, where she turned around and gasped in shock.

The horde had gotten closer, and she could see that they had little chance of survival. She quickly fired upon as many as she could.

She watched as a zed gripped Ray by the helmet and pulled her forward. Ray fell to the floor where a zombie started to gnaw at her neck as it gripped her torso, while another had gripped her by the legs and started to pull. Sergeant Christine Ray screamed in pain as she was torn in two, her blood pouring out of her entrails like a fountain.

As this happened, Master Sergeant Ryan Dunn had managed to clamber on to the platform, catching his breath before firing into the horde.

Next to go was PFC Brian Cox, whose leg was savagely gripped by a strange zed, which then proceeded to drag him into the horde, with him screaming and attempting to grab something to stop him from being dragged away. He disappeared under the crowd of corpses.

As Staff Sergeant Raymond Luther climbed upon the platform, Master Sergeant Lewis Townley ran out of ammo for his M27 IAR, and caved a zed's skull in with it. He then dropped the gun, and ran to the ladder. He jumped up and grabbed the bottom of the ladder, only for the zombified corpse of PFC Cox to pounce on him, throwing him off of the ladder. The soldiers on the platform tried to shoot it off, but could not effectively hit it due to the armour it was wearing. Townley screamed in agony as his throat was torn out by their former comrade's teeth.

First Lieutenant Georgina Adamson and Sergeant Major Stephanie Brians were completely surrounded by the horde, their Model 1100 tactical shotgun and ACR rifle could not protect them for long, as they were completely swamped within seconds, fighting to their bitter last breaths.

Major Peter Brownless was the last to go. After realising that Adamson and Brians were dead, he attempted to fight his way out of the horde. He simply pushed them aside, gritting his teeth as he batted away hands and teeth. As he made it out of the horde though, an extremely large force connected with him, throwing him into the wall of flesh behind him. He quickly pulled out his pistol, and fired at the monstrosities face, his AKMS out of ammo.

The large zed simply roared in his face and picked him up by the waist, making the Major cry out in pain. Its second hand then gripped him by the chest and pulled, the Major being thrown across the street in pieces, his scream silenced before it began.

The six on the platform looked down in awe as the rest of their unit was butchered, before the zeds started to gather at the base of the ladder.

Dunn quickly turned to the window behind them and smashed it open with the butt of his M4A1. He then jumped into the room before beckoning the other five to join him. As they got inside, Dunn looked to see if there was a way to the lower floor, and found a ladder. He quickly pulled it up to the second floor. Satisfied that the zeds couldn't come after them, he looked to the rest of the group.

Luther was rubbing his face with his hands, back leaned against a wall and his MK.15 sniper rifle laid beside him. The guy was not very social, and many of the few friends he had had perished out there.

Montressor was periodically checking out of the window, her face showing utter despair. Her UMP pro was clutched tightly in her hands, blood splatter all over the gun.

Winters was laid against a wall, legs draped in front of him. He held an M27 IAR, the same model of gun that his best friend Townley used. He was giving his gun the thousand yard stare, not focusing on anything as he thought.

Woodrow sat with his legs crossed in the corner of the room, caressing and cleaning his GL M32 grenade launcher. After he had polished his weapon, he counted how much ammo he had before repeating the whole process. Probably the guy's way of coping, considering that he had lost control of a situation and with him being the autocrat he is.

Tan was standing in the middle of the room, rechecking his ammo clips for his M16D. The asshole was much quieter than he usually acted, showing his own way of mourning.

Dunn quickly rubbed his face with his hand and sighed heavily.

* * *

SLICE!

A zombies head slowly rolled off of its former body, before the body itself dropped to the floor in front of the hooded figure. The figure quickly turned his head in all directions, scanning the area for any more of the walking dead. He wore black boots with white trousers, kneepads and a sleeveless shark hoodie that covered his eyes. He also had a black backpack filled with the essentials he needed to survive.

Seeing no more zombies, the figure put his MPX in the holster he custom-made for it, but kept his wakizashi out, flipping it in his grip. The silent figure quickly, and silently, climbed up a set of ladders to a rooftop. He walked to the edge before kneeling, and scanning the area. Seeing no activity but the distant gunfire of the military, he stood up.

Then he heard a heavy footstep.

The hooded man quickly leaned to the left, catching the meat cleaver upon his wakizashi. He then placed his left hand on the floor and spun in a circle, kicking his assailant's feet from beneath him.

He heard a grunt, and looked to his attacker. He wore a full set of SWAT armour, complete with a balaclava and a plexiglass helmet. He also had a rather large backpack deposited on the other side of the rooftop. He wielded a bloodied meat cleaver and a Tac Master 1911 pistol. He looked at the hooded figure with anger and hatred, before getting back to his feet.

Besides him stood a tall man who wore brown military boots, dark green trousers, tan kneepads and a black tactical vest. Beneath the vest he had a green jacket and a tan turtleneck jumper, complete with a balaclava. This man had also deposited his backpack at the other end of the rooftop. He appeared to be carrying a tactical tomahawk and an RPK on his back.

The SWAT officer charged forwards first, swinging first in a hook-like motion, cleaver blade faced towards the hooded man.

The hooded man quickly leaned far back, so much that his torso was completely parallel to the ground.

The SWAT officer then went for a downwards slash, only for the hooded man to perform a two handed handstand, before he extended his legs and kicked the SWAT officer in the face. The SWAT officer emitted a low growl before he attempted a slash as the hooded man straightened himself. The slash nicked the man's left forearm, who lightly hissed before he smashed his elbow onto the other man's arm, and then kicked him away. The cleaver clattered to the floor and the hooded man kicked it behind him, bringing out his long and short wakizashi's.

The man who looked somewhat like a mercenary stepped forth next, swinging his tomahawk in vertical circles, each slash connecting with a wakizashi, as the hooded man backed up as he blocked each hit.

The mercenary then quickly stepped back and kicked the man in the chest, who fell to the ground in his surprise, not losing his grip on his blades. The hooded man quickly jumped back up onto his feet, before he slashed for the mercenary's face, who ducked beneath it, before using his tomahawk to wrench the second blade away from the hooded man before it could connect with him.

The hooded man, realising he wasn't going to win the fight, ran to the mercenary before performing a front flip over the man, who had attempted a horizontal slash. He then quickly picked up his short sword as he continued to run, before kicking one of his opponent's backpacks off of the edge of the roof. He disappeared from their sight before they could catch up to him, the last sight of him being him running from the flare he threw at their fallen backpack.

The mercenary and the SWAT officer grumbled and growled about their defeat, before retrieving their weapons and looking to the fallen backpack. A horde of zombies had managed to congregate around it.

"Oh for fucks sake." The mercenary throatily growled, his voice being deep and gravelly. He quickly and delicately attached a machined suppressor to his RPK.

"We'll catch the fucker next time." The SWAT officer promised as he clenched his right fist and stared at it for a couple of seconds.

* * *

A zombie was felled with one solid swing of a cricket bat to the cranium.

"Lucky shot."

Christopher Dilsworth, a boy of average height with brown glasses covered eyes and short brown hair looked over to his friend, Ashley Faulkner. Ashley was a boy of similar height to Chris, with black hair and brown eyes. He wore a black jacket, with a black Steel Wench shirt and blue jeans and black trainers. This contrasted with Chris' orange shirt, leather jacket and blue jeans; complete with black trainers.

"Fuck off, that was a great hit." He replied with mock hurt.

"Right, tell me that when you learn how to actually play cricket." Ashley replied.

"Heads are bigger targets than bloody cricket balls." Chris muttered, looking around the street they were in.

"That may be, but if you can hit a head, then why not cricket balls?"

"Because heads aren't thrown at me at high speeds."

Ashley pondered this. "Good point."

"So where are we actually going anyway?" Ash asked, looking to Chris.

"The donut shop that's nearby, it's in the middle of the city so no one else will have gone for it yet." Chris reminded him, hefting his blood-stained bat.

"Ah right. Why not swing by the gun shop too? We don't have any guns."

"Because far more people will have gone for the gun shop. Think, if you were in need of instant defence, then you would go for a gun after a close quarters weapon, right?"

"True, but there's bound to be something there." Ashley argued, hefting his golf club over his shoulder.

"Hidden behind the thirty-odd walking corpses, yeah there may be." Chris bitterly responded with.

"Alright then, just the donut shop."

"Yup."

The two continued to walk side by side in the middle of the street, noticing an absence of zombies.

"You know, we're lucky that we were near the Tartan Mart in the first place. Just a shame that not very many of the lads made it."

Chris looked to Ashley, face expressionless. "Who knows? Maybe Billy and Francis made it. We just have to wait and see."

Ashley mocked great shock, widening his eyes and clutching at his heart. "Is that optimism I hear, from the most miserable bastard I know?"

Chris glowered at Ashley. "No, it's realism. I just thought you would appreciate some optimism." He sarcastically replied, his monotone voice being deliberately used.

"Oh Chris, you're so considerate to me!" Ashley mockingly gushed, before the two chuckled from their little scene.

"Glad I could brighten your day." Chris replied, smirking at Ashley.

"You don't lighten my day as much as the smell of donuts, speaking of which, we're here." Chris looked to his right at the small donut shop. He also noticed many zombies crowded around a distant office building.

"Shouldn't be surprised that you can smell food over the smell of the dead you fat piece of shit. Let's get quickly in, take what we need and go, the zombies are distracted down there."

"Oh, you're such a charmer Christopher." Ashley sarcastically replied, rolling his eyes as the two walked to the door of the shop.

* * *

"Hey Lily."

"Hey dad. What's up?"

"Nothing much. Just got back from the Harrison's. Did you know that they had a fully loaded shotgun in their bedroom?"

Lily gasped in shock. "No way. The Harrison's? As in, the good old 'pacifist' Harrison's?"

"Yeah, those exact Harrison's. Sam says it's a Warden shotgun; practically beat us away from it. Something about it being an 'unreliable' weapon at best." Thomas Ritter explained, air quoting in a sarcastic manner.

"Well, that's why we leave that sort of stuff to her, she knows about this sorta thing." Lily countered, looking wryly at her father.

Thomas Ritter had black, balding hair with a cream striped shirt. He also had blue jeans with brown workers boots, his trusty backpack on his back.

"Hello, is anyone still alive? Hello?" The radio blurted out, slightly shocking Lily, who quickly activated the microphone for the radio.

"Hello, I'm a survivor. Friendly too! Where are you at? Do you need help?" Lily quickly asked, focusing her attention on the radio and listening to the survivor.

"Thank God. There's me and one other survivor, and we're both really hurt. I think I've cracked my ribs," he then groaned in pain, before continuing. "But Sheila's got it really bad; I think she's twisted her ankle."

"I'll send someone to try and bring you back here; hopefully we can help you then."

"Thank you, oh thank you! We're holed up in the Ranger's station at Mt Tanner, please come quick!"

Lily sighed in relief. "Sure thing; and what's your name? The person I send will need to know that it's you."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm called Wendell Higgins."

"All right then Wendell. Someone will be on their way soon."

"Ok, thanks Miss…?"

"Lily, Lily Ritter."

"Ok, thanks Miss Ritter."

Lily then turned the microphone off.

"I'll go Lily." Thomas said; just before she got a chance to turn around too.

"Are you sure Dad? Mt Tanner's quite far away, and you know our rule with only one person heading out at any time, right?"

"Of course I do Lily; I need to help those people."

Lily stayed silent for a moment and looked down at her lap.

"Hey." Thomas gently knelt down and lifted her chin up with his left hand. "I'll be back before you know it." He then gave her a reassuring smile.

"Ok then dad… just hurry back. Please." Her voice slightly cracked at the last word.

Thomas slightly frowned, knowing she was still very worried about Jacob, just like he was, who had disappeared hours ago. He then gave her a hug, which Lily strongly returned.

"I'll be back soon, safe and sound. Just you wait and see."


	2. I will not bow

I do not own State of Decay, I have written this purely for fun. I also do not own anything mentioned here but my OC'S.

**Chapter 2: I will not bow**

23/12/2012

"Stand up."

Master Sergeant Ryan Dunn looked up to Captain Diane Montressor, seeing her standing directly in front of him.

"What?" He asked, confusion being openly displayed on his face.

"I said get up soldier; we have to get a move on." Montressor replied, scowling as she hefted her UMP pro.

"And who made you the boss?" Sergeant Erik Tan loudly questioned, walking towards her aggressively.

"I am the highest ranking soldier still alive, which means that I lead this unit." Montressor coldly replied.

"We're nowhere near any military bases; they won't let us back into Fairfield after we left, the best leader should lead us, and I'll be damned if it's you." Tan hissed, his M16D held tightly to his chest.

"And who do you think would be most fit to lead us, soldier? If you're so confident in the decision that I shouldn't lead us, who should?"

"Do we really need a lead-?" Dunn went to question, but was swiftly cut off.

"YES!" Montressor and Tan hissed at him, before resuming their argument.

Dunn simply held up his hands in a gesture of peace, before walking to the group of Winters, Woodrow and Luther on the other side of the room.

"What do you guys think? Should we have a leader?" He asked them.

"Not bothered." Luther quietly replied.

"I gotta go with Luther here." Woodrow responded with, checking the launching mechanism of his grenade launcher.

"As long as it isn't Tan, I'm not bothered either." Winters told Dunn, looking to him with a blank stare.

"Ok then, we should probably scout the area shouldn't we?"

"Just get Luther to the roof; he's got a sniper hasn't he?" Winters asked Dunn, looking to Luther.

Luther simply picked up his MK.15 rifle and walked to the window they climbed through earlier. Dunn quickly followed him, with Winters and Woodrow staying where they were seated.

Dunn looked up to the roof and saw no ladder, before looking to Luther.

"I'll help you up, and then you help me up, ok?"

Luther nodded his agreement, and put his MK.15 in its holster on his back. Dunn then cupped his hands, which Luther then put his boot in it and used it as a jump up to the roof. Once he scrambled up, Dunn jumped with an outstretched hand and Luther pulled him up.

The two then looked out to the horizon. Not even stopping to admire the sunrise's beauty, Luther quickly set up at the edge of the roof, aiming through his snipers scope. He scanned the city as Dunn tiredly lay down nearby, the sound of Tan and Montressor's bickering attracting various zed.

"If this continues, I'm splintering off." Luther quietly muttered, just loud enough for Dunn to hear.

"You can't man! We need you!" Dunn whispered loudly, looking at Dunn in shock.

"If they continue, the group will fall apart. That isn't a guess, it's a fact." Luther growled, his scope grazing past two figures barging their way into a donut shop.

"Over there." He quickly mumbled to Dunn who immediately looked to where Luther's finger was pointing.

"Two figures. Non- infected. Both have blunt objects; no firearms."

"Should I go check it out?" Dunn asked, pulling back the chamber of his M4A1.

"Shadow them. Find their base. Then return."

"What about the others? Should we tell them?" Dunn asked, looking down at Luther's prone form.

"No. I'll cover for you."

"Fair enough." Dunn then ran to the edge of the roof and jumped to the next building along.

* * *

Chris barged into the door, making a loud slamming sound as the door swung open. The two got inside and froze for a moment, hiding behind the counter while waiting to see if any zed replied.

After two minutes of waiting, there was no reply.

Ashley quickly pulled himself up, before walking into the back of the shop, as Chris went to close the front door. Ashley quickly rushed into the back, wielding his golf club. His chosen tactic saved him from the hungry jaws of a zed.

A ripped and torn white apron adorned the zombie, along with an employee's uniform for the shop. Ashley loudly gasped in shock, before backpedalling into a wall after slamming into the infected. The infected fell back into a cupboard, several pans and pots falling from their shelves and onto the floor.

Ashley then quickly gripped the base of the club with both hands and swung at the zombie's head. The impact of this sent the zombie into a mop and bucket, generating even more noise.

Chris quickly rushed into the back to see what the commotion was, before hearing several moans from the front of the shop. He quickly looked to Ashley.

"Hurry the fuck up and kill that zombie and get the food before we get fucking swamped you stupid dipshit!" Chris angrily told him, before rushing back to the front to try and hold the front door shut against the infected that had amassed by it. The large window next to it had already had a large barricade of tables and chairs set up, leaving only the back door as vulnerable. No zombies had gone in that direction however.

Ashley quickly punched the zombie in the face, making it turn to the side from the impact, before he lowered its head over a still active frying vat. He then pulled the mop out of the bucket, and smashed the zombie over the head with the bucket, making its head careen into the vat of liquid. This caused it to try and pull its head out of the machine, before the brain became damaged.

Ashley was not finished though, as he held the bin over the zombies head and held it there until the unholy monster stopped thrashing, where he continued to hold it for ten more seconds before letting go. He then dropped the bucket and began to desperately search for food.

He quickly pulled open a cabinet, pulling out all the plates, pots and pans but found no food. He then checked the cabinet underneath it, and found a box of donuts. He quickly pulled it out and put it on a counter before continuing his search.

Chris was struggling however, the number of zombies gathering outside reaching over fifteen zombies. He desperately pushed against the leading zombie that was trying to push the door open, a zombie in full military armour. As valiant as his stand against them was, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

He looked back to see Ashley run around the corner of the back to him, holding an average sized box.

"THE BACK! THROUGH THE BLOODY BACK!" Chris screamed, giving Ashley five seconds to open the back, before looking again. Ashley had opened the back and was beckoning to Chris; box tucked under one of his arms.

Chris then gave the door one last heavy push, before he started to sprint in the direction his friend had gone. He rounded the corner to see Ashley climbing on to a wall, before throwing the box of food they had collected onto the roof of the shop they were just on. The box fell however, cracking slightly from the fall. Ashley then jumped onto the roof, pulling himself up.

Chris then picked up the box and threw it up to Ashley, before he clambered up the wall himself. He then made the jump, successfully reaching the roof.

"Damn, that was close." Ashley panted, looking to see zombies completely swarming the alleyway.

Chris held a finger to his lips; before the two looked down to see the zombies staring up at them.

"Shit, we're going to be here for a while." Chris groaned, lying down in exhaustion. "What did we get anyway?"

"About thirty two donuts." Ashley mumbled, replacing the lid of the box carefully.

"If we ration that out properly between eight survivors, we can all have one donut each for four days." Chris then huffed in exasperation, before rubbing his face with his hands, his glasses being lifted to his hair and being left there.

"Better than having fuck all to eat though, right?" Ashley asked, attempting to lighten the mood of his companion.

"I guess." Chris mumbled; his face still covered by his hands as he lay back on the roof.

A rather loud groan was then heard. Chris immediately reached for his cricket bat, pulling his glasses down to his eyes before searching for the problem, Ashley reaching for his golf club.

"What the fuck was that?" Ash mumbled, looking around the roof until he was pounced upon from behind, letting out a grunt as it happened.

Chris immediately turned to his friend, seeing an extremely decayed looking zombie going to take a bite out of his friend. He quickly charged into it before it could, picking it up and slamming it into the floor. He was then picked up by it however, and thrown at Ashley who was just pulling himself up.

The zombie then lifted its head and let out a terrifying roar, arms stretching out to the side. The next thing the two heard as they recovered was a loud splattering noise, and the sound of a body collapsing. They managed to look to see the zombie left without a head, having been killed mid-roar.

"What happened?" Chris questioned, confused by the turn of events. He got closer to it, wielding his bat with Ashley close behind him. They then saw blood showered to the east of where the zombies head was facing.

"I think someone shot it, but who?" Ashley wondered, slightly relaxing.

"Fuck if I know, I'm just grateful that they saved our asses."

* * *

The hooded man ran past a destroyed home, holding his left forearm tightly to stop any blood from escaping. While he knew the zed weren't like sharks, he didn't want to take the chance.

He continued to run until he reached the barn that he was currently occupying, pulling out his short wakizashi as he reached the door. He looked inside to see two zed, who he knew wouldn't be a problem. He quickly closed the huge barn doors, before rushing to the first zombie.

It lunged at him as he ran closer to it, forcing him to slide across the floor, raising his blade as he passed through its legs.

He then jumped back up to his feet, immediately performing a spinning flip over the military zombie that was directly in front of him. As he landed, he fell on to his back from his bad landing. The military zed then fell on to him, attempting to bite any part of his body. Luckily, his blade had left it impaled above him, so that it didn't bite him. However, that was only until the weight of the corpse overcame his own strength, even slightly, as the zombie was just a couple of centimetres from his face, only just unable to bite him.

The creature snarled as it attempted to claw him, his only response being to grab his MPX and to shoot it in the side of the head. The zed moaned pitifully as it collapsed to his side.

The hooded man let out one quick breath before jumping back to his feet and emptying the last of his MPX's clip into the other zed's head.

As the second zombie fell, he changed his clip and replaced his used suppressor. He then heard one pitiful moan. He looked back to the armoured zombie and inspected it closely.

"A headshot is meant to be a one hit kill…"

* * *

A black pickup truck roared as it raced along the empty roads. His path was empty, apart from the occasional zombie on the road. Thomas Ritter tried the cars radio, but there was no stations active. If the emergency broadcast wasn't counted of course.

When he finally reached the bridge that led to Mount Tanner's Ranger station, he stopped his truck.

"Jesus Christ…" He muttered, looking at the collapsed bridge. He looked around, seeing a few zombies stomping around the area. He crouched quickly, before slowly walking to the bridge's edge. He looked down to see two burnt out cars and about over thirty corpses.

"Bridge must have given out, too much weight." He hypothesized, seeing a small cliff to his left that could safely take him down to the river level. The river seemed to have a very low level of water. The other side also had what resembled to be rocky steps.

A low moan sounded out, and a he quickly looked behind him to see a zombie slam into a tree, falling to the floor.

"Getting paranoid." Thomas uttered to himself, slightly chuckling at the thought.

Thomas then quickly darted over to the cliff, where he sat down on the edge. He then gripped the sides and slowly lowered himself down, before letting go.

The rather loud splash of water from the impact resonated throughout the area, Thomas hearing multiple grunts and groans that signified the zombies being alerted to his presence. He quickly sprinted to the cliff steps on the other side of the river. As he reached the steps, he looked backwards to see three zombies fall of the cliff of the side he was just at. His heart quickened dramatically and he breathed heavier, before he quickly raced up the steps and charged into the forest on the other side of the river.

Branches and bushes were pushed aside as he raced through the forest, only letting him hear his own panicked breathing. As he ran, he noticed a large wooden building through the trees ahead. However, as he gawped at the ranger station, he accidentally ran straight into a zombie. The monstrosity moaned gutturally as it attempted to grab him with its cold, clammy hands.

Thomas loudly gasped in fear, jumping off of the creature and backpedalling quickly in his shock. Another clammy paw slapped onto his shoulder as he moved, making him yell in surprise. He quickly head-butted the creature behind him, physically removing its hand from his shoulder, before breaking out into a desperate sprint.

He quickly vaulted a low brick wall as he ran, looking back to see about ten zombies following him, at least three running. He then charged up to the door of the station, before practically flying through the door.

Two squeals of surprise greeted him, before Thomas quickly held the door shut with the remainder of his strength. The other two occupants of the station quickly caught on and started to move a desk to the door. Thomas moved away at the last second as the two placed the desk in front of the door. The female then collapsed, crying out in pain as she clutched her ankle in agony.

The male looked up to Thomas. "I- I see you made it here. In spectacular fas- fashion too."

"What can I say? I aim to please." Thomas retorted, grinning slightly, before his face dropped again.

"I'm Thomas. I take it you're Wendell right?"

"The one and only."


	3. Hopeless

I do not own State of Decay, I have written this purely for fun. I also do not own anything mentioned here but my OC's.

Replies to reviews:

drakeonis: Thanks. Don't worry, you will be seeing more. I hope to update in a regular fashion, a chapter every Saturday.

ernestgoestocamp: Thanks, I'm hoping to inspire more people to write for this genre with this.

Lord Of Wolves Fang: Thank you very much.

mk14ebr: Thank you, and I see your point. I saw the story disappear and wanted to revive this story community, and so I made this to try and help with that.

**Chapter 3: Hopeless**

23/12/2012

"Right then, looks like we're back."

Chris looked up, seeing the sign of the Tartan Mart they were occupying, and sighed in relief.

They quickly jogged to the front of the shop, knocking on the front door since they were barricaded.

A face with dull brown eyes and short brown hair popped up, looking to see the both of them non-infected. He then got to work in moving the cabinets that blocked one of the doors.

As the final cabinet was removed, Chris held the door open for Ashley as he passed the person the supplies they had gained. The two then entered the mini mart, before replacing their barricade.

"Took you long enough." Lewis Sweetland scolded them, directing Ashley to put the crate on the counter. Lewis was dressed in a black shirt with a joker face on it, a brown coat, blue jeans and a set of black trainers. He was of average height, just taller than Chris. He was also slightly overweight, although it was barely noticeable.

"Not exactly our fault, at least a couple hordes jumped us." Chris replied, reaching for a Pepsi from one of the fridges.

"Whatever." Lewis growled, removing the lid from the crate. "How many donuts did you get?"

"Something like thirty two donuts." Ashley replied, finishing his scan of the mini mart. "Where's Rachel?"

"Out." Tyrone Buckland cut in, walking from the storeroom out of the back of the shop. He was dressed in a blue shirt with a black coat, blue jeans and white trainers. He was a very tall person, with brown eyes and messy brown hair. His face barely held any expressions other than either being blank or grinning , being only just more expressionless than Chris. His skin was a dark brown.

"Oh well then, I better go find her then!" Ashley mirthfully replied, making his way to the ladder.

As Ashley climbed up to the roof, Chris looked to Lewis. "Has anybody else been sent out, or are they all on the roof?"

"We sent out Rachel to get us some medicine about twenty minutes ago. Caitlin and Anna went for materials from the warehouse to the left of us five minutes ago."

Lewis had a quick look through a crack in the barricade on the leftmost window to see the two sneaking their way around the warehouse, three large duffel bags filled with items sat at the entrance of the building.

"It looks like they might be done soon. Chris, go out the back way and help them move those bags." Lewis ordered.

"Why can't you do it?"

"I'll be clearing the barricades for the front doors, especially since you're a bloody weakling."

"I'm not weak! Just because I don't have the 'advantage' of-"

"Of what Chrissy?" Lewis questioned threateningly, getting closer to Christopher. "You want to finish that fucking sentence you fucking coward?"

Chris glared at him for a couple of seconds, before moving to go out the back way, huffing as he went. He opened the back door, which opened into the back of a wheel-less van which was purposefully placed directly in front of the door. He then closed the door, before he opened one of the vans sliding side doors and exited, closing it before walking away. This van was effectively an extra defence for the back door, leaving no need for a barricade since its windows were blocked up with planks of wood nailed over them.

As Chris then crouched and slowly made his way to Caitlin and Anna, he looked at the dead that patrolled the street in front of the two buildings. They shambled and stuttered in step, in a way that made Chris think of the danse macabre, how life is futile, no matter how powerful you think you are.

The thought left his mind, imprinting his face with a scowl as he stealthily slid into the warehouse.

"Caitlin? Anna?" He quietly whispered, seeing two familiar faces quickly turn to him, a nightstick and a frying pan being raised.

"Chris?" Caitlin asked, lowering her nightstick. "What are you doing here?" Caitlin was quite short, with blonde hair comfortably reaching to her chest, blue eyes, wearing blue jeans, white converse and a white shirt reaching to her stomach.

"I'm here to help." Chris replied, closing the door of the warehouse as he stood, his voice still being kept to a whisper.

"You came a bit late then, didn't you?" Anna scolded. "We're pretty much done." Anna stood at the same height as Caitlin, wearing a black beanie with a yellow bobble, a black set of hipster glasses, white and black DC converse, blue skinny jeans and a white iron man shirt. She also had long brown hair and brown eyes.

"I'll help you move the bags then." Chris offered, seeing a grand total of five bags.

He picked up two of them and put the straps on his shoulders, before gripping both handles for both of them, slightly struggling with the weight.

"Which way are we going in then?" Caitlin asked Chris, looking to him.

"Whichever way you want Caitlin." Chris lowly replied, waggling his eyebrows.

Chris and Anna let out quiet, suppressed chuckles while Caitlin hid a blush in the dark of the warehouse.

"I meant which entrance to the tartan mart, asshole!" Caitlin hissed, crossing her arms.

"The front. Lewis and Tyrone are clearing the way as we speak."

"Alright then. Now, if you've got two bags, and me and Anna have one each, what are we going to do about that final bag?" Caitlin questioned.

"Can't any of you two carry it?" Chris questioned, looking to the two of them.

"I can't." Caitlin replied, holding the straps of her duffel bag up to her shoulder.

"I probably can." Anna replied, hefting her current bags strap around her neck, before lifting the other bag.

"Lead the way Caitlin." Chris told her, gesturing her to the back door, where there were less zeds.

She nodded to him, before opening the door and checking for zeds. Seeing none, she waved at the two to follow her, before slowly making her way to the side of the tartan mart. The two quickly followed, Anna struggling quite a bit with her bags.

"Almost there Anna, just hold on." Chris whispered, struggling with the weight of the materials himself. Caitlin then led them around the side of the building, and opened the front door for them. As they slipped in, she slowly and quietly closed the door, before helping Lewis and Tyrone to barricade it again.

* * *

Master Sergeant Ryan Dunn lowered the binoculars from his eyes, having been viewing the entire spectacle from the top of a house not incredibly far from the survivors' base.

He noted in his mind the Tartan mart close to the Swine and Bovine's and the Snyder trucking warehouse held a rather large group of survivors, and then grinned. He then gently lowered himself down the side of the house, before releasing his grip. The soft thud of impact did not attract any zombie's, to which he huffed a sigh of relief.

He then started to slowly make his way to the office building that his team had taken shelter in, his M4A1 cocked and ready to fire, should he encounter any zed that get too close. He quickly attached a machine-made suppressor to the rifle, feeling glad that his next fifty bullets will be cushioned by the contraption.

He looked ahead to a bridge, to see around ten zombies infesting it. He couldn't afford to pass by them, as he needed to save as much time as possible; Luther needed to know about these survivors. Dunn quickly got onto his knees, before rubbing the black stubble on his face, his short black hair hidden beneath his helmet. His green eyes focused upon the head of the closest zombies. He slowed his breathing down, in an attempt to better his aim.

He then fired, popping the head of his first target like a melon, before popping three more heads in quick succession. They rest of the zombies then noticed him, and had started to run towards him. A quick three shots to the neck severed the head from the body of the fifth zombie. A shot to the left eye disabled the sixth zombie, its collapse causing two more to fall over. The last two zombies still standing received a barrage of bullets through their chests, the force of the bullets rupturing enough arteries and blood vessels to render the bodies unusable. The last two zombies were dispatched with headshots as they writhed around on the ground.

Ryan then started to sprint, reloading his weapon, having used all thirty one bullets in that attack. He quickly ran, until he saw a zombie with a rather bloated stomach ahead of him.

"Holy shit…" Ryan noticed that the zombie was wearing a yellow shirt with blue jean shorts. It also looked like a previously heavily pregnant teenage girl.

He looked around, seeing multiple zombies closing in on him from all sides, but the rotter was all by itself on that side.

Ryan quickly made his decision. He shot the abomination through the skull, the force of the corpse hitting the floor popping the stomach. An extremely powerful smell of death and decay filled the air, making Ryan cringe in disgust, before he ran. A pale cloud appeared to form above the body, Ryan sprinting through hit without hesitation.

The moment he did, he continued to try and run to his team's makeshift base, but found that this noxious gas was forcing the oxygen from his lungs, making it harder to breathe. He coughed and spluttered as his sprint slowed to a shambling run, to an agonizingly slow walk. Ryan leaned on a nearby wall and vomited, the foul liquid hitting the floor with a splat.

As Ryan continued to hack his guts up, he heard the shambling of corpses and groaning around him, but found that he could not move. He simply couldn't find the breath or the energy to move.

One particularly loud moaning sound was cut off, a distinctive splatter of a silenced impacting round cutting it off. Another splat then sounded off. The next four shots were drowned out by the sound of Ryan's vomiting.

At last, a barrage of bullets impacted the horde that was beginning to congregate around Ryan. Two strong hands grabbed him by his armpits, and lifted his arms over their shoulders. The added motion sickness caused Ryan to spew up again, being left unable to see anything through his constant bouts of vomiting. He blacked out as a door was kicked open.

* * *

A green box with a white cross on it is opened. A roll of bandages removed from it. A calloused, tanned hand begins to wrap the end around a cut. He continuously wraps the cut, until he is sure it is secure. He then cuts the end off of the roll, and tucks the end beneath the bottom layer.

He lightly tugs the bandage, satisfied in its security, before he puts the roll back in the box and tucks it away. He grunts in discontent, looking to the two bodies placed in front of the window at the front of the barn.

The man with the shark hoodie then lifts the armoured corpse, and throws it over the edge. He then quickly moves to the other body and throws that over too. Content with his work, he moves to his stockpile of food. After rooting through his supplies, he realises that he is down to four tins of beans. As he takes one and heats it with a pot cooker, he readies himself for a trip.

He turns the pot cooker off when he is finished, and peels the lid off of the beans. He then takes a spoon and begins to eat, his malnourished body allowing him to devour the beans within a minute.

He burps with a feeling of contentment, and then licks the spoon clean before he places it with his other spoons. He then goes down to the door and opens it. Pushing aside the corpses that he had just dropped, he sweeps a door open wide. He then sprints out, his target being the Swine and Bovine across the road from a gas station.

He jogs quietly along a road, nearing the already close bridge that led to the back half of the city. Luckily, a horde had not decided to gather upon it, but one most definitely will soon. He sprints across the bridge with a level of speed unmatched by any. After he stops to take a breath, he looks up to the Swine and Bovine that is now ahead of him, three zombies standing in his way.

He unsheathes his wakizashi's, and sprints forth. As he approaches the first zombie, it swings its heavily decayed face in his direction, red eyes boring into him. He runs past it, before spinning in a circle, and decapitating the monster with one clean swing.

He continued to run, his second target being less decayed than the rest, and running towards him. The Shark hoodie man jumped into the air and turned, his left foot extended with his right tucked beneath him. He held his swords in the air, preparing for his attack. His foot kicked into the zombies face with such force that the spinal cord snapped, the head lolling back uselessly as the body collapsed.

His third target didn't even get the chance to see him as he planted a sword in the middle of its skull.

Satisfied with his work, the man sprinted to the Swine and Bovine. He attempted to pull the door open, but it was locked shut. The man cursed, before ramming the door. He was met with no success. He rammed it again, with the same results. The third barge knocked the door open however, alerting the zombie behind the counter that was inside.

The shark hoodie man reacted quickly, kicking the cash register into its face, before leaping over the counter and plunging both of his swords into the monsters skull. He quickly caught his breath, before gathering two duffel bags worth of supplies, and putting them in the back room.

After he was done, he sighed in relief, before seeing a huge zombie lumber towards one of the windows, indicating that he must have made too much noise. He ducked beneath the counter, keeping himself as quiet as possible.

He listened intently as he lay, listening as the window smashed. Listening as the monsters deep and heavy groans penetrated the fast food restaurant. Listened as tables and chairs scraped aside to accommodate the creature's size. Listened as it growled in intense anger, and seized him from behind the counter.

The man cried out in shock, before planting his swords into the creature's skull. It roared in pain but survived, his swords stuck in its skull. He quickly flipped as the monstrosity released its grip, landing neatly on the ground. The monster then raised both of its fists and slammed them into the floor, the man having barely rolled out of the way. He quickly ran around the side of the monster, jumping onto a table before flipping backwards, landing in a sitting position on the back of its shoulders.

He grabbed his MPX and went to fire into its head, when the creature grabbed him by his left leg, and lifted him high into the air. The momentary loss of balance caused the man to drop his MPX and yell in fear and pain. The creature's grip began to crush his foot, its other meaty hand gripping him by the stomach. It then began to pull.

The man screamed in agony as he heard the bones in his foot begin to separate and be crushed into several pieces. Tears streamed from his eyes as the pain surpassed his common sense in trying not to attract more zombies. He looked to the monsters face, seeing his short sword slightly loose. He quickly grabbed it and pulled it out of the monsters head, before ramming it straight down the centre of the zombies face.

The zombie groaned as it released its grip on him, making him drop to the ground and cry out as he landed on his bad foot. The zombie fell backwards languidly, the two swords protruding from its head. The man crawled towards the zombies head, crying out in pain every time his left foot made contact with the floor. He then pulled out his swords and sheathed his longer one, whispering to the zombie.

"Rot in hell you Big Bastard." He then stabbed it in the face again, before sheathing his short sword. He looked to the two entrances to see three zombies shamble in.

He quickly crawled to his MPX, before dispatching the first zombie with a headshot, the second with several shots to the chest and a shot to the neck with the final zombie. He then crawled to the back room and leaned against the wall, whimpering in pain.

* * *

"Is this station secure?"

"As secure as we can possibly make it." Wendell replied, looking out of the now boarded up windows.

"Is there any more survivors out there?" Thomas questioned, looking directly at Wendell.

"There may be. You should check the tents."

"How many tents are there?"

"At least five." Wendell grunted, clutching his rib.

"Alright then. I'll be back later; I need to search those cabins."

"Good luck."

As Thomas left the cabin and shut the door, he looked out to see two tents close by. He quickly rushed to them, reaching for his radio as he went.

"Lily?"

"Dad? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine Lily, I just called to tell you that the survivors are definitely there."

Lily sighed in relief. "Good. Are you on your way back?"

"Not yet. I'm checking for more survivors."

Lily huffed in concern. "Just be careful."

She then hung up on Thomas, who frowned before pressing on. As he reached the first tent, he looked inside to see no survivors, but a gun was laid on a bench inside. On the floor, there was a man with a huge axe in his face. He wore military camouflage, black boots and cap. He seemed less like a military man and more of a hunter.

"Suicide." Thomas muttered in sadness, picking up the gun. Carved on the side was some writing, which said '700 huntsman. Property of Lincoln Voss.'

He then picked up the axe, which seemed to have been named by 'Lincoln Voss', as 'The Splitting Maul'. He quickly put both on his back, before moving to the next tent. He had no success there, not even a weapon. The third tent also yielded no results, but the fourth had a zombie and a small cache of food. The splitting maul quickly dealt with that zombie, before he raided the food and put it all in a duffel bag.

He then moved to the fifth tent, seeing no one inside. He sighed in sadness, before making his way back to the Rangers station.

* * *

The person clutched at their wrist in agony, out of sight of the cabins other occupant. They quickly looked to their wrist, the bite mark causing intense pain for them.

They were not infected. They couldn't be, they had survived so far, they had survived their sickness. The nurses had even said so. What cruel God would strike them again? They were not infected, but anyone who glimpses the bite would assume they were.

They just had to hold on a little longer, and they would be safe.

* * *

Here is the list of survivors so far.

**Group: Survivors**

Christopher Dilsworth

Ashley Faulkner

Lewis Sweetland

Tyrone Buckland

Caitlin Forde

Anna Chamberlin

Rachel Bruzzone

Abigail Manassa

**Group: Military**

K.C Winters

Evan Woodrow

Diane Montressor

Raymond Luther

Ryan Dunn

Erik Tan

**Group Canon:**

Thomas Ritter

Lily Ritter

**Lone survivor:**

Shark hoodie guy


End file.
